


The Fascinating Dormitory Lives of Completely Ridiculous Persons

by damnrightitskakko



Category: Saint Seiya, Saint Seiya Lost Canvas
Genre: College AU, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1953669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnrightitskakko/pseuds/damnrightitskakko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I just wanted to write snippets of saints in college dorm life. and so I did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When IT Happened

In his defense, Yato had no preconception of the kinds of things that went on at dorm parties. He was a freshman, after all; the most he had to go on was hearsay, and the rest, over glorified accounts from adults who lamented their lost youth. If he had held the slightest clue, perhaps, he wouldn’t have agreed to go when Yuzuriha asked him to hang out that night.

"That was quick", she had said, half-brows raised. "You usually aren’t much for social things. Did something happen with Tenma?"

As if she’d needed to ask. But asked she had, and Yato’s tongue got stuck in his throat. There weren’t enough words to say everything he didn’t want to say, so instead he’d deferred her with a curt request to talk about it later, and that was that. They’d agreed to meet downstairs in an hour, and Yato did his best to try and put that stupid, brash, inconsiderate nimrod out of his mind. 

He wasn’t prepared for “it”. He had no idea. 

A little more than an hour later, Yato reached the last step of the stairwell. He leaned out, and cautiously tried to assess the situation. There were already quite a number of people there—some he recognized, some he didn’t. A bowl of some nasty soda concoction sat on a table, and plastic cups and water bottles sat on the side. No sign of Yuzuriha anywhere, though.

"You’re wearing glasses?"

Yato jumped in surprise. Quickly, he shot a look to his side, and saw Yuzuriha dressed in her normal casual clothes: shorts, a tank top, and that ridiculous scarf of hers. She was wearing one of those pullover striped vests for a somewhat decorative touch.

"Jeez! Don’t scare me like that!" He scowled at her, and readjusted his wire-framed glasses. "You said it goes ‘til late. My eyes get too heavy if I wear my contacts for too long, so I took them out and put glasses on instead."

"Hmmm". Yuzuriha took a look at the gathered group. "They make you look overdressed."

At her assessment, Yato took a look down at his outfit; tight-fit blue jeans, a purple t-shirt, and a thin grey hoodie. What was so overdressed about that? Maybe his boots were a bit much? 

"Hey, wallflowers!" Yato looked up from his shoes to see—urgh. Dohko. The big loaf was waving them over with a grin on his face. "Come on and join the group, you two!"

"He and Tenma share too much in common", Yato murmured under his breath, but followed after Yuzuriha, albeit begrudgingly. The two each took a plastic cup full of the aforementioned nasty soda concoction, and sat down at the couch. 

This night was already turning up pretty shit, Yato thought, as he brought the (what the hell even was in this plastic shit) drink to his mouth.

"Perfect. Now we have a chance to talk."

Yato nearly choked.

"Oi. When I said later, I didn’t mean _this_  later. There are people here!”

"Isn’t that better? Now you can’t run away without making a scene." Yuzuriha smirked, much to Yato’s chagrin. She had him there.

"Ugh. Fine." He put his drink down as Yuzuriha downed hers, and tried to think. Where to begin?

"You, uh…you know about Alone, right?"

Yuzuriha looked at Yato over her cup. “A little. He’s Sasha’s younger brother, right?”

"Yeah. He grew up with Tenma and Sasha in foster care before they both got adopted. They kept in touch and all, but…" Yato rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Tenma says that being all by himself got to Alone real bad, you know? Blames himself for it. I heard him keep on about that, and didn’t really get it. Why would he be responsible, anyways? That makes no sense. And then I found out why."

"As it turns out, sometime a while ago, Alone confessed to Tenma. You know. That he liked him—"

"Yato."

He felt Yuzuriha’s hand on his shoulder. What a shit he was. Getting comforted by a girl. Ugh. But now he couldn’t stop.

"—and, what a surprise! Tenma told me that he thinks Alone is just confused. Because no one who’s friends with someone ends up liking them romantically, that’s just confusion. So of course, I can never confess to him because he’ll think the exact same thing!"

"Hmm. Try kicking him", Yuzuriha suggested, and stole some poor unattentive soul’s plastic cup. "This stuff is surpisingly good. You gonna finish yours?"

"I dunno, I haven’t tried it yet—and kicking doesn’t work. I tried that". 

"Got me, then." Yuzuriha furrowed her brows, side-eyed him, and then looked back at the cup, slightly confused. "On second thought, this stuff tastes kind of weird."

"Hey, hey, don’t go changing your opinion just like that", Yato grumbled, and picked up his cup again, slightly wary. He brought it to his mouth, and then sniffed it.

"…Is there alcohol in this stuff?", Yato wondered softly to himself, and looked around at the gathered folks. He’d never been around drunk people before, but something told him that he was in the presence of lushes.

"Hey, I’m a minor! What kind of shit are they trying to—Hey!" Yato yelped as Yuzuriha grabbed his cup from him, and he watched in horror as she downed the whole thing.

"Yato, I changed my mind. The glasses make you look cute", Yuzuriha garbled, much too close to Yato’s face.

And then, “It” happened.

He was blameless.

In an instant, Yuzuriha was kissing him. Yuzuriha. Stony-faced, sarcastic wit, embarassingly taller than him, and apparently  _ten times stronger than him_  Yuzuriha was pushing him down on the couch with her tongue down his throat.

What the hell was going on??

A whooping holler sounded out, and Yato remembered that there were other people there.

Oh gods.

"Get off me, damnit", Yato tried to say—but failed, because his tongue couldn’t move. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even breathe. Damn, but Yuzuriha could kiss someone straight to hell. Was this divine punishment of a sort? Before Yato could begin to wonder what he’d done that deserved such a fate, Yuzuriha finally broke off and stared down at him.

Boy, did she look pissed. 

"Aw, fuck", she spat. 

One shared sideglance at the plastic cup next to him told Yato that her anger wasn’t directed at him. And really, Yato had nothing to say.

Because out of the corner of his eye, across the dorm hall, he saw Tenma standing, eyes wide.

Aw fuck, indeed.


	2. Not Enough Pringles in my System to Deal with this Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dohko gains new hatred of being the Dorm Head

"Sir? Um, mister dormitory head, sir?" 

Not again.  _Again._  Dohko sighed, and turned in his swivel-chair, away from his thesis paper, to look at the young man standing in the doorway. He was a familiar face; black hair, bangs hanging slighting in front of his face, and a tie in the back. The guy worked as a TA for Professor Aldebaran. Nice kid, all around. 

But that wasn’t the main reason Dohko was familiar with him. Or, in fact, why he was familiar with many of the kids in the suite down the hall. 

"I get it, I get it. Tenma and Yato are fighting again? Jeez, those two…" Dohko stood up from his chair. This routine was familiar; put his computer in sleep mode, leave a note for Shion, grab his Pringles, shoulder his way past the most recent complaint-filer, and then go down the hall to bash the heads of two really, really stupid kids together.

What the hell was wrong with those two, anyways?

Dohko remembered when the two had first become roommates at the beginning of the year. Their personalities began to clash instantly. First, Tenma had made a mess while unpacking, then Yato had made a fuss about keeping to each other’s space, and then Tenma—well, was himself. Then, their rivalry exploded after something about a girl named Sasha came to the front. The aftermath had fallen to Dohko’s care, and for a while he wondered whether or not he needed to arrange for them to have different roommates. But, as the fire burned, so it simmered; at the two-month mark, finally, the two finally seemed to have overcome their differences and become friends. 

Yet, just when Dohko thought life in the dorms would be peaceful, something happened:

Yato got a girlfriend.

A really hot girlfriend, too, if Dohko was honest with himself. And Yuzuriha was pretty awesome, too. She wasn’t just an honor student, but she was also captain of the volleyball team, and she’d taken the school to the championships every year she was there. Not only that, but she was a friend of Shion’s—and that got her points in Dohko’s book. She was the kind of person that Dohko knew, no friend could ever object to their friend having a girlfriend as awesome as Yuzuriha

Except, apparently, Tenma.

Dohko dusted some pringles crumbs off of his mouth in thought. No, perhaps that wasn’t being generous of him; it wasn’t as if he’d actually been able to have the ‘your roommmate has a girlfriend now, how do you feel about it?’ talk with Tenma, so even Dohko was clueless. But, in hindsight, he remembered Tenma looking pretty unhappy about the whole thing when “it” happened. It hadn’t ever come up in any of the times he’d had to muscle his way through  _another_  one of their fights, either—just stupid things, like remembering to take out the garbage or who had kitchen duty. Either way, it was obvious to Dohko what the underlying issue was;

Those two knuckleheads were immature brats who still fought over girls.

Dohko popped another Pringle in his mouth. Oh, he was going to bash their heads in for sure. 

He could hear the tell-tale signs of shouting the closer he got to the suite. Quickly, he slid his keycard, and opened the door. All the doors in the suite were closed, including the one where all the shouting was coming from. No surprise there. Even with their door shut, Tenma and Yato combined could out-noise a foghorn. Dohko sighed, and started to knock on the door.

"—Even if you say that, there’s no way I’d believe something I can’t see with my own eyes—"

Dohko stopped. Was that really Tenma? Dohko had never heard him sounding that worked up before. Perhaps this time, he’d really have to split them into different rooms?

"—That’s right, because you’re an idiot! So you won’t believe me even when I come out and tell you, is that it? Fine!"

Oooh boy, and that was Yato. Whatever this fight was about, it was pretty serious—and he had to break it up fast. He knocked on the door.

"—Then I’ll just speak your stupid, brainless, act-before-you-think, impulsive, reckless and bean-headed langauge!"

 They hadn’t heard the knock. How unsurprising. Crow as he might, dorm protocol had to be followed; this time, he knocked harder.

"—What’s that supposed to—"

There was a scuffling sound, and then—silence. Dohko was overcome with momentary bliss, which was then overshadowed by panic. What was going on in there? Had they started to fight? Without another thought, he slid his keycard through and shoved the door open—

and nearly dropped his Pringles. 

Yato—the guy who the whole dorm thought was dating Yuzuriha, one of the most awesome girls around—the guy who utterly refused to talk about his feelings to anyone—was kissing Tenma. He’d full-on grabbed Tenma by his shirt and pulled him in—Yato! Kissing Tenma!

By the gods, he’d been dragged into a lover’s spat.

This whole time.

Too shocked by the revelation to stop himself, Dohko blurted, “You’ve got to be kidding me”.

In that instant,  _finally_  the two noticed that Dohko was standing there. Yato quickly pushed Tenma away, just as his eyes bulged open. Dohko couldn’t tell who was more flushed.

"This—this isn’t a—" Tenma started to protest, but Dohko put his hand up in silence.

"Tenma. Yato. Look, whatever it is, I get it. You’re young. You’re stupid. But please, please  _learn_ how to resolve your issues quietly. You’re adults now, and I have faith in you.” He pointed with his Pringle hand at Tenma.

"You—need to learn to listen to people when they are telling you things."

"But—"

"And you!" Dohko turned to point at Yato. "You need to sort your shit out with Yuzuriha before—"

"SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND, DAMNIT"

Dohko blinked. “Uh. She isn’t?”

Yato looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Tenma backed away.

"NO! She’s NOT! THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL THIS BLOCKHEAD FOR THE PAST FIFTEEN DAYS—"

"But I saw you!" Tenma returned, and Dohko reached a conclusion; Tenma definitely looked more flushed. "At the dorm party, two months ago—"

"She was drunk! Okay? She kisses people when she’s drunk! And you can’t escape! No escape, you hear me! I thought I was going to die!"

"Okay, Yato, I get it—volume, remember?" Dohko made to pat him on the shoulder, too. But then he realized that his hand was too busy holding his Pringles container. Instead, it came off as a half-hearted wave. Which, really, was a shame; Dohko really did understand where Yato was coming from. It all made sense now.

Yuzuriha and Shion shared drunk symptoms. Must be a Jamir thing.

(Dohko would carry the events of that night to his grave). 

Dohko pinched his eyes closed, and rubbed at his temples. This wasn’t going anywhere. He knew what he had to do.

"Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re going to—"

"Just ask Albafica, she got him, too!"

"Enough!" Dohko yelled, and did his best to tell himself that he didn’t want to know how THAT had happened. "Now. I am going to leave. I am going to close this door behind me, and I am going back to my room, and you two are going to talk to each other. And you’re going to talk to each other at reasonable volumes. If I have to come back here one more time, so help me, I will bring Shion into this, and he will lecture you to death, and I will _force_  you to talk about your feelings. With supervision. And you don’t want that. Got it?”

The two looked too stunned to respond. Well, that was good enough for him. 

"Now, sort your shit. And don’t make me come back here." Dohko closed the door behind him, and stormed past the audience of suitemates that had gathered outside. 

He was going to have to treat that Albafica kid to a drink.


	3. Bar Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best conversations to have in a bar are obviously the ones that nobody wants to have in public

Albafica stared across the table at his drinking partner, perplexed.

The fact that he had a drinking partner was an anomaly in itself. What made the whole thing even more bizarre was that it was none other than Dohko, one of the residing dorm heads who’d made a name for himself by being gregarious, out-going, and a penchant for shirtlessness.

The shirtlessness part usually caught his attention first. Not that Albafica would ever say that out loud; who knew what admitting that Dohko’s torso was easy on the eyes would do to the other’s ego? Besides, Dohko’s other attributes distinguished him as someone that Albafica otherwise preferred to avoid. Usually, his own personality did most of the work in keeping people like Dohko away.

And yet, here they were.

"You’re probably wondering why I asked you out for a drink", Dohko said, and Albafica noted the congenial expression. Friendly, but not overwhelmingly so. He was leaning back in his seat comfortably, as well. That ruled this out as a date, then.

Albafica eyed his drink. “The thought had crossed my mind, yes.”

"Hah! You’re surprisingly straight forward!" Dohko grinned wider, and he began to scratch the back of his neck. "Well, it’s just, I thought I’d show my support to a fellow who’s gone through a similar experience."

Albafica furrowed his eyebrows. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Dohko bit his lip, and looked around at the surrounding area in the bar, pointedly avoiding Albafica’s face. 

"It’s, uh. I heard about this from someone, so I don’t know the details, but uh…well, I’m friends with this guy named Shion, and—"

In an instant, everything came together. The weird conversation at the door, earlier that day. Why Dohko had taken him to a bar, of all places. He should have figured it out sooner. He could have saved himself from the sudden sensation that a piece of him had fallen down a hole.

It came over him so fast, he couldn’t stop his mouth from blurting out the first thought that entered his mind;

"So he fucked you, too."

Dohko’s eyes grew wide. If he wasn’t feeling like complete shit, Albafica might have laughed. The other man’s mouth opened, then shut again. Then, Dohko said something even more surprising.

"He  _what_.”

Albafica frowned. “Isn’t that what this is about? That Sh—that your  _friend_  can’t take a fucking drink to save his life, and becomes a complete horndog and…” Albafica stopped. Dohko just looked like he’d been hit with a truck.

"I was going to talk about the incident with Yuzuriha."

Albafica blinked. Yuzuriha? The hell was—oh.

_Oh._

Oh, fuck.

Albafica felt his face turn bright red. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What had he just done?

Dohko appeared to wince, and then lifted his beer glass to take a drink, and gave Alabafica an apologetic side-eye. “Well this is turning out nowhere near what I expected it would”.

Albafica grabbed his own drink. He completely downed it in one go, and slammed the glass down on the table. “What kind of expectations did you have?”

"Er. Trading stories, jovial banter about dealing with those hopeless lightweights and their…er…"

Albafica groaned, and buried his face in his hands. So Shion and Dohko had done  _something_ together, then.

"Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I won’t push you—"

"No." Albafica rubbed his eyelids, and shook his head. "No, it’s out now. I haven’t talked about it with anyone before, so…" He shook his head, and sighed. 

"Yuzuriha first. I got invited out by some people I knew from the volleyball team, because they sometimes stop by the greenhouse on campus. Without telling me anything, they made me sit by Yuzuriha at the club. Apparently, they knew about her drunk habits beforehand from previous encounters, and so I was planted as a buffer."

"Yikes."

"You don’t know the half of it", Albafica groaned. "I got pushed down onto a shaky club chair while the entirety of the volleyball team just sat and watched her nearly kill me. She kisses like she’s trying to steal all the air from your lungs."

"And Shion, he…" Albafica raised his head from his hands, and sighed. He eyed Dohko’s still mostly full glass.

"Are you going to drink the rest of that?"

Dohko pushed it over to Albafica’s side of the table without a moment’s hesitation. Albafica nodded in thanks, and then downed it as quickly as he’d done with his own.

"He…we met at last year’s club orientation day. I stopped by the astronomy club table because one of my classmates, this guy named Manigold who’s a complete ass—he had asked me to come by and give him notes from class. Shion was there instead. Before I said anything, he asked if I was Manigold’s girlfriend."

Dohko let out a whistling sound. “I see.” 

Albafica nodded. ” I didn’t know that at the time, but apparently he’d told Shion ahead of time that I was coming to the table. And, Manigold being the complete jackass that he is and knowing that I hate it when people take exception to my face, thought it would be hilarious if Shion thought I was a girl.”

"I got mad, called him a presumptive ass, and flipped the table over."

Dohko raised his eyebrows. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you.”

Albafica rolled his eyes. “Too many people have taken one look at my face and thought they could walk all over me. What else can I do but show them they’re wrong? Anyways—I started to storm off, but Shion caught up to me and stopped me. He apologized, and said that he should’ve known better than to think Manigold would actually date someone who shared classes with him. Then, he said he’d make it up to me if I helped him put the table back in order. I…well, I felt extremely stupid right then for getting mad when it was Manigold’s fault. So, I agreed, and I stayed on to help for the rest of the day.”

"And then…" Albafica gave his empty beer glass a rueful glare.

"I was still a little on edge from embarrassment, you know? So I thought it’d be fun to punish him a little. Just a little. When he asked me if there was anything I wanted him to do, I dared him to a drinking game."

"I think I can see where this is going", Dohko noted. He tried to wave down a bar server, but it seemed half-hearted. "But, why a drinking game, of all things?"

"Hmmph." Albafica leaned back in his seat, smiled, and crossed his arms. "Obviously you haven’t heard about my alcohol tolerance. Some have said my blood itself is 200 proof." He grinned, briefly, but it felt strained. Absently, he tucked some loose hair behind his ear.

"Shion, he…definitely seemed a little nervous about it. It was exactly the reaction I was looking for, so I didn’t even think about why he looked that way when he accepted. I told him to meet me at my apartment; I live in a single, so it’s more convenient for me. He brought a bottle of water, thought gods only know why, he never got to touch it."

"Right away, I started the dvd up. Two shots in, and Shion was already kind of losing it. He started…" Albafica rested his chin in his elbow, and couldn’t help the smirk. "Talking. A lot. Especially about stars. How they moved, and how awesome it was that there were tons of galaxies expanding and growing, thousands of light years away. It was kind of random babbling," Albafica recalled. Though, honestly, he hadn’t minded it. The effusive passion Shion had for the stars had seemed beautiful, and hearing Shion talk made him feel like he was special, somehow.

"On his fifth shot…he said that people were made up of the same stuff as the universe. And—something about there being a map of the universe that looked like a brain cell? ‘Isn’t it amazing that the blueprints of the great cosmos were secretly hiding in our heads this whole time?’ And…"

And then, Albafica felt the ghost sensation of lips on his ears as the memory painted itself in vivid detail; Shion’s hair, soft, and tickling his face; the figure of a pink-haired prince on the screen with her sword brandished victoriously against her foe; the smell of his breath as he whispered those words to him;

_"Thousands upon thousands of universes burn inside our minds, giving us life and thought, and yet…I can’t think, I can’t think anymore when you’re this close to me."_

Then, they had kissed; Albafica could only think,  _So this is what the warmth of another person’s body feels like._ And then, he had felt that warmth spread all through him, as if the stardust of Shion’s drunken ramblings had really ingited within him.

"We…well. You know."

Dohko stared at him in silence. Then, he shut his eyes, and furrowed his eyebrows.

"And then?"

"And then, he was gone when I woke up the next day, and I haven’t been able to talk to him since."

A drawn out “rrmm” sounded from Dohko’s throat. “Look…I know it’s not my place to say anything, but…” He sighed. “No, actually, it’s because it’s not my place that I have to say something. Nothing really happened between the two of us.”

Albafica’s eyebrows shot up.

Dohko folded his arms across his chest. “He tried to kiss my cheek and I punched him in the face, and that was it. I swear!”

Albafica pursed his mouth. This just felt like he was getting patronized. Yet, he couldn’t help himself. “That’s it?”

Dohko nodded. “That’s it. 

"He didn’t grab you anywhere—"

"Stop right there", Dohko pleaded with his hands in the air. "Before my sanity dies. I just wanted to say something to reassure you because you obviously like Shion."

 Albafica gawked in disbelief. “I…I do? I mean—how is it obvious?”

"It’s written all over your face, Albafica. And you should tell him."

Albafica sank back in his chair. Tell Shion? But it’d been so long…”But what if he hates me? For what happened? He hasn’t come to find me, either…”

"So what if he hasn’t," Dohko said with a shrug. "I’ve known Shion for a while, and he’s a stubborn one. What’s important is that you  _do_  something. You’ve been holding this in for a while now, haven’t you? It’s not good to just sit on something like this. So what if he hates you? What if he doesn’t! Either way, you can’t just sit on this forever and end up regretting it!”

Regret. There was that to consider. Up till now, Albafica hadn’t ever really had anything with anyone the same way—but then, there had been Shion.

This couldn’t go on.

"…Promise me something."

Dohko raised his eyebrows. “What’s that?”

"That if I end up broken-hearted because of your advice, we go out drinking again. Since you actually have alcohol tolerance."

Dohko grinned. “You got it—oh! By the way…what was the drinking game?”

This time, it was Albafica’s turn to grin.

"The Revolutionary Utena drinking game, medium difficulty; take a shot every time the symbol of a rose pops up on screen."

The look on Dohko’s face was priceless—and this time, Albafica was in good enough humor to enjoy it.


	4. Change of Pace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teneo has always found his roommates squabbling a little hard to deal with. He wasn't prepared for the silence to be even worse.

Teneo had never imagined the day would come when he would be unhappy with some peace and quiet in the dorm suite. Yet, ever since  Dohko’s embargo of “don”t bring me into their lover’s spat bullshit” had gone into effect, life had become just that; a little too quiet. Of course, he took advantage of the opportunity to study, and was grateful for not having to worry about getting caught in the crossfire of a misfired punch to the face (or kick to the groin, in Yato’s case). It should have been a welcome blessing.

Yet, the stillness unsettled him. At first, Teneo thought it was because change itself had always made him uneasy. However, as the stillness dragged on, he noticed that there was something else in this new quiet that was stifling.

Tenma and Yato weren’t arguing—but they also weren’t talking. Moreover, they were avoiding each other. It became painfully obvious when Teneo found himself stuck between the two of them as the three all happened to be brushing their teeth at the same time. Before, even when they were arguing, they had at least been the friendly banter—but now, all Teneo saw was two friends who did their best to not even risk seeing the other in a mirrored reflection.

This couldn’t go on. Teneo expected this kind of stymied, held-in approach to feelings from Yato—but Tenma? It was unthinkable that someone as hotheaded and hyped could keep a lid on himself like this. If things remained as they were, Teneo worried that their friendship would break down—and he couldn’t bear the thought of Yato blaming himself for that. 

Because all this change had started after Yato’s confession. 

"Tenma, you moron", Teneo grumbled as he passed his keycard through the suite door. "This is going to be like Alone all over again…" The door clicked, and he started to open the door when a hand clapped down on his shoulder.

"Wha—" Teneo tried to spin around, but his overstuffed backpack crunched into the wall. Then, his bookbag’s strap snapped, and everything he was carrying crashed to the floor.

"Crap—!!!" Teneo dropped to the floor and started trying to pick everything up.

"Oh, jeez—sorry about that! Do you need help?"

Teneo looked up from his mess, and blinked in surprise. “Regulus? What are you doing here?”

Regulus, the youngest dorm RA, gave a wide grin, and then crouched down to help. “Here”, he handed over a pile of papers. “I actually came because I promised my friend I’d do a favor for him. Let me get that—”

"A friend?" Teneo didn’t mean to pry, but he couldn’t help it. Each RA had their own floor in their respective building where they settled any disputes among people living there, and rarely visited other dorms unless there was a party or open house event. Regulus’s presence was especially notable; though he wasn’t the most reclusive of the dorm heads, as the youngest and an honor student, he was often too busy with his own circumstances to go out of his way to other dorms. 

"Yeah. He told me he lives in this suite. There’s the last of it!" Regulus stood up holding Teneo’s book bag, and shrugged his shoulders. "The back room is Yato’s, right?"

"You’re friends with Yato?" Teneo felt his jaw drop. Yato was friends with someone as impressive as Regulus? How come he’d never heard that?

"Yep! Ever since he moved here to live with his foster family—ah, the door—" Regulus adjusted his hold on the bookbag to pull something out of his pocket. Then, he slid it through the door, and opened it—and Teneo realized it had to be Yato’s cardkey.  

"His foster family?" Teneo followed after Regulus into the suite, still overwhelmed. What was going on? Yato was friends with Regulus, and lived with a foster family? He quickly unlocked his own door, and dropped his stuff off, then peeked back out of his room. His curiosity simply wouldn’t let this go. By the time he’d finished, Regulus had made his way into Yato and Tenma’s shared room, and was rummaging around in Yato’s closet.

"Yeah. That’s sort of why I’m here—" Regulus made a small sound of rejoicing, and pulled out a suitcase from the closet and placed it on the bed. "There’s a crisis with his blood relations back in his home country, so he’s flying back for the weekend—"

"What’s going on here?"

Tenma stood in the hall with his sports bag slung over his shoulder, his mouth agape.

"Aah—you must be Yato’s roommate! Tenma, right?" Regulus smiled, and then scratched his nose in embarassment. "You wouldn’t happen to know which drawer he keeps his socks in, would you?"

"Why would I know something like tha—"

"Guess I have to find them myself, then. What about his underwear?"

Tenma’s face burned. 

"I’m going to interpret that as a ‘no’, then", Regulus noted with a cluck of his tongue, and started pulling open drawers. "Ah, here we go—"

"—S—stop derailing me like that!!" Tenma burst. "What’s this about Yato going away?!"

Teneo and Regulus both stared at him. “I guess it’s understandable you don’t know—”

 _Since neither of you have been talking to each other_ , Teneo mentally filled in—

"—since this is a last minute thing. His sister back in Japan is sick, so he’s flying out to take care of his younger siblings for the weekend. Ah, me and Sisyphus are gonna take him to the airport right after class, so don’t wait up for him or anything." Teneo watched Regulus stuff more of Yato’s clothes from the dresser under the bed, and noted how his movements seemed fast, yet meticulous. 

"But…the whole weekend? When’s his return flight?" 

"Mm. I think the evening, on Sunday. That should be it!" Regulus slammed down the suitcase cover, and zipped it up. "And his paper should be…ah! There—" Regulus walked over to Yato’s desk, and snatched up a stack of papers that were stapled together. "Gotta get this to professor Hakurei’s office before 5 pm!" He brushed past the two, suitcase and papers in hand, and was quickly gone.

The stillness had returned—but now, it felt worse than ever. Teneo looked back at Tenma, who had sat down on his bed with a crestfallen look on his face.

"Why did Regulus have to come all this way…"

"Well, they did say they were friends—"

"That’s not what I meant!" Tenma shouted. "I’m his roommate! Shouldn’t it make more sense that I’m the one he asks to do those kinds of things?!"

Teneo frowned. “Is it really any wonder?”

Tenma pouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

"No offense, but you’ve kind of been an idiot recently", Teneo pointed out. "Ever since Yato confessed, you’ve been giving him no reason to believe that you’re still friends. Why would he rely on you when you’ve been nothing but cold to him?"

Tenma’s mouth thinned into a line. He sighed, and then collapsed back on his bed. 

"I know. Damnit, I  _know_. It’s no wonder he didn’t want to tell me in the first place, but…” He rubbed his face with his hands. “I just—I started looking at him, and then I couldn’t anymore.”

"Just because he likes you? Tenma, that’s not fair—"

"No! It’s—it’s because—arrghhh". Tenma sat up again, and this time, Teneo noticed a telltale redness on the other’s face.

"It’s like, the more I look at him, he sort of—starts looking cute, and I feel guilty because he told me something like that, and I don’t want to stop thinking of him as my friend."

Teneo balked. _Dear gods, this must be what Dohko felt like._ He shook his head,  and thanked the gods for his patience.

"Why don’t you tell Yato that when he gets back?"

"What, that he’s cute? Are you kidding me?" Tenma’s eyes widened in shock. "He’d kill me!"

"So you’re just gonna let him think you hate him? I thought you were a better person than that, Tenma". Teneo shook his head, and turned around to go back to his room.

As he shut the door behind him, he heard the thud of a fist bang against the wall. What it meant, Teneo really couldn’t say.

But he had the feeling that things would become lively in the suite once more.


	5. My Little Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus has an eye for detail. He notices things. He always has.

Sometimes, Regulus felt uncomfortable with being called a “prodigy”. The word was loaded with history; it called to mind great historical figures, the like of Einstein, Mendel, Mozart—people he didn’t really feel he had anything in common with. He was just some kid with a scholarship and good grades. There was nothing really special about that. 

There was one thing, however, that Regulus felt set him apart. It was the simplest of things (wasn’t it always?), yet it always seemed to make a difference. 

Nothing slipped his notice. 

He’d always been observant; as a kid, he noticed the stars at night change over the course of the seasons; he saw his teachers sometimes with deep circles under their eyes, the twitch of their mouths whenever a particularly rowdy student caused problems; he noticed the way the heels of a soccer player on tv would turn in before a powerful kick. The things he saw informed him of the world, and it felt natural to imitate, to test, and ultimately improve and surpass that which he observed.

There was nothing in the world that brought him the most satisfaction, however, as observing and cataloguing the varied ways people expressed their emotions. Happiness, sadness, anger—everyone had their own way of showing, or refusing to show, their feelings. Did a person enjoy their happiness to the fullest? Did they feel guilty about their sadness? Would they revel in their anger? Regulus enjoyed watching people and learning how they ticked.

And there was no one whose ticking so engrossed him as Yato.

Yato, his childhood friend; Yato, who had come to the country not understanding a word of Greek, and yet bit his lip in frustration because he understood when he was being mocked. That reaction, that cross-lingual commonality, piqued Regulus’s interest in the stocky, round-faced foreigner, and he immediately took him under his care. After plying his mother persistently, he managed to get a Japanese-Greek dictionary, and the two would spend recess together going over words and deciphering each other.

They had remained good friends over the years, so Regulus’s knowledge of Yato’s expressions was quite sizable, indeed.

So comprehensive was his knowledge, that reading his friend had become instinctive. He could tell when Yato was cheerful, when he was confused, and most especially when he was upset.

When Yato had called him up that afternoon, all sorts of alarm bells went off. He had figured they all had to do with the following explanation; the situation with Yato’s sister back in Japan seemed dire indeed. Yet, even as he made his way to Yato’s dorm to pick up his things, a small stray thought worried in the back of his mind that there was yet another problem.

Then Tenma had stumbled into the room, and the last piece fit into place. 

"So…Yato", Regulus started, as he helped Yato put his bags into Sisyphus’s car. 

“ _What._ " Yato shoved in the last bag with more force than necessary, and didn’t meet Regulus’s eyes. The reaction was hardly unexpected, given the circumstances. 

"About Tenma—"

The car trunk door came down with a slam. Regulus frowned. What was  _that_  reaction for? Undaunted, he followed after Yato on the other side of the car, and opened the door. 

"Like I was saying, about Tenma—" Regulus began, studying Yato’s face. Pursed lips, narrowed eyes; Yato wasn’t just angry, but he seemed genuinely pained by the mere mention of Tenma. He’d only heard about Yato’s roommate in passing complaints, but Regulus knew enough that he’d gauged that the two were on fairly amenable terms. What kind of argument had the two had?

Did it have something to do with what he’d noticed earlier? 

Only one way to find out.

"—I couldn’t help but get the feeling he likes you."

Yato’s eyes  _bulged._

“ _Bullshit,_ there’s no way that guy likes me- _-“_.

Regulus’s jaw went slack. No. No way. It couldn’t be.

Yato  _liked_  Tenma. Like,  _really_ liked Tenma. How had he not noticed this out before?  Regulus tried thinking back on everything he’d seen, every conversation about Tenma in the past, and now—

_How?!_

"You—" he started, but was cut off when the car to the driver’s seat opened. Sisyphus dropped in his seat, and turned back to face them.

"Sorry about the wait, the parking ticket meter was being uncooperative", Sisyphus said with a sigh, and Regulus noted the other flash his trademark comforting smile. 

"It’s enough that you’re taking time out for me to do this", Yato responded, with perhaps one of the most strained smiles Regulus had EVER seen him put on. Sisyphus didn’t seem to notice, however, and simply turned back in his seat with a light-hearted "no problem" before starting the car. 

Regulus’s mind was still reeling. Yato liked Tenma! He was desperate to know more, but asking about it now when Sisyphus was there to overhear wouldn’t do. Yato would clam up, and he’d have to wait until Yato returned to get to the bottom of this.

Still, there was one thing he could do.

“ _You like Tenma, don’t you”_ , Regulus said in Japanese.

Yato pouted, and gave him an indignant side-eye. “ _When did I ever say that I liked that idiot”_ , his Japanese pronunciation marginally better than Regulus.

“ _You don’t have to_ ”, Regulus quipped, unable to keep from pouting himself. “ _And lying to me isn’t proving anything._ ”

“ _I’m not lying—_ ”

“ _No, you’re just talking in circles. Which is honestly not fair. We’ve been friends since we were kids, Yato! You can be honest with me!_ ”

"Um, Is everything okay back there?" 

Regulus almost said “no”, but Yato stopped him with a look. “We’re fine. Just talking about…stuff…”

Sisyphus made an incredulous huff, but didn’t press further. Yato then sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“ _I’m sorry. You’re right. I just…it’s been awful._ ”

Regulus huffed, and leveled his gaze with Yato’s. “ _Tell me about it._ ”

Yato told him everything. From Yuzuriha kissing him, to the mangled confession in front of Dohko, to the weeks that followed where they didn’t talk to each other. 

“ _It’s because of this that I never wanted to tell him in the first place”, Yato groaned, and let his head rest on Regulus’s shoulder. “It’s the exact same thing that happened with that other friend of his, Alone—_ ”

Alone? The name sounded familiar to Regulus, though he couldn’t place why. Had Yato mentioned him before? Regulus mentally filed the name away for later. 

“ _—and now he avoids me, and it’s…I wanted to stay friends with him! I just wanted to be by his side…_ ”

Regulus bit back a sigh. Just listening to Yato, he could tell—Yato cared  _deeply_  about this Tenma fellow. Not just as a friend, not just as a potential romantic partner; he’d never seen his friend like this over  _anyone._

It was even more baffling than before that he’d been so blind to his friend’s emotions. 

Regulus slung his arm around Yato’s shoulders, and pulled his friend in close. He felt Yato briefly; but then, just like old times, he felt the familiar weight of the other’s head rest on his shoulders.

“ _Don’t think about that guy for now. Your family’s depending on you for the weekend, right?_ " Regulus said with a smile. " _I bet your younger siblings will be happy to see you again after so long!_ ”

“ _Brats, all of them_ ”. Yato chuckled softly, and Regulus felt the other shift in his seat. “ _Um…I need to be awake when the plane lands, so—_ ”

“ _I’ll wake you up when we get to the airport._ ”

Yato shifted again, briefly lifting his head—and then it was back down on Regulus’s shoulder. Not long after, there was the faint tine of music from headphones. He didn’t recognize it, but judging by the low tones, he figured it was some playlist with meditation tones. Yato’s taste in music was really weird, sometimes. Regulus soon stopped worrying about the music, as Yato’s breathing slowly evened out. 

"You keep looking like an overprotective boyfriend, and you’ll scare girls away".

Sisyphus’s voice snapped Regulus to attention.

"Pardon?"

His uncle laughed softly, his eyes still ahead. “I may not be as smart as you, Regulus, but I’ve known you since you were in diapers—”

"—wha _—!!”_

"—And I can see just fine. Your face is really easy to read!"

Regulus blinked, baffled. “Where is this going?”

"You like him very much, don’t you?"

His heart thudded in his chest.

Of course. It all made sense now. Why he hadn’t seen Yato progressively falling in love with some other guy. Why h _e_  was incapable of seeing it until now.

Yato, his childhood friend. His favorite person to study. His most cherished person.

Because he hadn’t wanted to.

It was one of those moments when the label ‘prodigy’ felt completely wasted on him. Afterall—how could a prodigy miss something that was so obvious, and right in front of him this whole time?

Regulus felt like a fool, indeed. 


	6. The Night that Went to Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakurei loves meeting up with his prior students to catch up and talk about good times. Tonight was supposed to be much the same fare.
> 
> Supposed to. It seemed that even in his old age, life had a way of throwing surprises at him.

It wasn’t often that Hakurei had occasion to visit his students. As one of the most distinguished professors on campus, his many duties to the school, his classes, and his research often got in the way of his personal life. So when he had free time, Hakurei did what he could to make good on catching up with the students who were particularly special to him. 

And, as the light-hearted counterpart to his stuffy twin brother, he also had the obligation of dragging the Head principal Sage out of his office. They had reached this age gracefully, after all—the two of them TOGETHER should be able to sit down and celebrate their birthday! Why settle for two birds when you could get five instead?

"Youngsters", Sage harrumphed, and folded the restaurant’s napkin over his lap. "They’re cutting it pretty close. What time did you tell them to come here?"

Hakurei chuckled. “Oh, the usual—Yuzuriha, I told her half an hour earlier, and Shion, half an hour later. What with the way those two get ready for things, I expect they’ll both make it right on time. What about yours?”

Sage grinned. “An hour ago.”

"He does like to make an entrance, doesn’t he". Out of the corner of his eye, Hakurei saw some familiar figures making their way towards their table. "Speak of the devil. The youngsters made it just in time." The fact that all three of them had come together was surprising, though reasonable; Hakurei knew that Shion and Manigold knew each other, as the advisor of the astronomy club, and Yuzuriha had often complained about the ego of Sage’s protege. 

"This place sure is classy, Pops", Manigold started off as he sat down, and glared at the napkin on the appetizer plate disdainfully. "I didn’t figure you for these kinds of digs."

"Every now and then", Sage offered.

"Professor Hakurei, Professor Sage", Shion started, and bowed his head to both. "You’re early."

"And here I thought they were late". Yuzuriha rolled her eyes, and sat down. "Really—lying to people at your age?"

"It’s because I’m this age that I can get away with it, you brat". Hakurei reached over and ruffled the hair on top of Yuzuriha’s head. "You and Manigold could learn a thing or two from Shion about being mindful of your elders."

"Bullshit", Manigold called out, and pointed in mock accusation at Shion from across the table. "That guy there butts horns with you the most out of all of us."

Shion’s face remained impassive, which struck Hakurei as odd. The boy was often quite serious at times, but now? This was too much. Hakurei shook his head.

”Yes, well. At least he’s cute about it.”

That got a reaction; Shion sputtered, and turned beet red. “Please don’t call me that in a public place, professor.”

"See? Too cute."

"Professor!"

A round of laughter sounded around the table just as the server brought them their drinks. Soon after, they all settled into a comfortable rhythm of chatting and eating. Hakurei couldn’t help but be happy at how perfectly the night was going.

That is, until it wasn’t. 

"Manigold," Sage began, as he cut through another gyro. "I expect I can rely on you to help out with the open house coming up, am I wrong?"

Manigold paused, his food halfway to his mouth. “What’s this all of a sudden?”

"It’s not sudden; two weeks’ time from now is the campus Open House, and I need people at the Honors Program table. Even though I know you have duties as a dorm head and an honor student, we need some representatives.", Sage explained. "It would mean a lot to me if you could help out. You too, Shion", Sage said. "Even though you had a hard time at the club orientation day…"

Shion stiffened. It was slight, but Hakurei had known the boy since he was a child; there was no way in hell he’d ever misread Shion’s body language. 

"It was no trouble, really", Shion said. Hakurei heard the waver in his voice.

"Eh? But I heard that there was a fight of some sort. Your table even got knocked over!"

Hakurei balked. Such a thing had happened, and Shion hadn’t said a word of it to him? Something was definitely going on. He stared at Shion from the side, and looked for more cues.

Shion turned his head away, just a bit—which meant he knew that Hakurei had noticed something was off. Which meant that this was serious, indeed. 

"It was nothing I couldn’t manage, sir—I’m fine."

Hakurei narrowed his eyes. Liar.

The conversation turned to other things, which gave Hakurei time to think. He had to get Shion to talk—but how? Shion really was the most stubborn and contentious out of the whole lot. But Hakurei was no pushover. He’d had years of practice in handling contentious brats. 

As the bill arrived, opportunity struck.

"Yuzuriha". The young woman looked up at him from rifling through her wallet. "No need for that—this dinner is on me. But putting that aside, did all three of you come in the same car?"

"Of course not", she replied. "Manigold took his own car. Shion rode with me, but I have to visit my younger brother after this—"

"Then you won’t mind if I borrow him for a bit? We have things to discuss."

Yuzuriha’s eyebrows piqued up, and Hakurei noticed her look to Shion. He felt Shion stiffen at his side. Manigold sat back in his chair, clearly pretending not to notice what was going on, while Sage just looked confused. 

"I don’t particularly own him or anything", Yuzuriha answered with a shrug—and before anything else could be said, the waiter came back to retrieve the bill. It wasn’t long after that everyone made their farewells, and started going their own ways;

Yuzuriha, to visit her brother. Sage with Manigold, no doubt to hit up a bar somewhere.

And Shion, with him. 

Hakurei tapped the wheel of his car and waited for Shion to get in, anxious. Crap. Now that he had Shion where he wanted him, how to start? Judging from how twitchy Shion looked (or, at least, that he could tell, from looking at him through the rear-view mirror), it was probably best to get it over as quickly as possible. Plus, his own curiosity was killing him.

"So."

Shion didn’t look up.

"Your table being knocked over does explain why so many of the handouts got messy.” Hakurei remembered being curious after finding so many of the display items having dirt on them, but he hadn’t pressed at the time. That had clearly been a mistake.

"Care to talk about what happened?"

"I can’t."

Hakurei bristled.

"Shion—"

"I don’t remember!!"

The genuine distress in Shion’s voice took Hakurei aback, he almost didn’t register their meaning at first. But then, his worry exploded. Shion? Not remember? That just didn’t happen! Unless—

Hakurei turned around in his seat, and gave Shion a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

"How much do you think you drank?"

Shion pinched his brow.

"I don’t know. Whatever it was, it had to have been hard stuff. My mouth was almost too dry to open the next day, when…" he drifted off, and shook his head. 

Of course. Though Shion wasn’t averse to alcohol, he was terrible at holding it in. Whatever events had happened at the open house must have led Shion to drink enough to make him lose a full day. No wonder the boy was so upset. 

"What do you remember?” Hakurei gently squeezed Shion’s shoulder.

"I…" 

Hakurei waited. 

"Every time I try and remember things about that day, what I was supposed to do, my classes—it’s all a black wall. But then there’s…roses."

"Roses?" 

Shion nodded. “And after that, it’s just light. I woke up in my room, everything looking the way it normally does, so I think I walked there from…wherever I…” He shuddered, and ran his hands through his hair with a grimace.

"I think I had sex."

Hakurei balked. 

"Shion—"

"No, I’m sure I did", Shion said. "I found bruises on me that were too small to have been left by any blows. I don’t remember who my partner is, where we did it, how we did it, why we did it—I don’t remember any of it, and the longer I sit here thinking about it the more concerned I get, and I just—I just wish I knew, so I could face him—”

"Him? I thought you didn’t—"

Shion didn’t meet his eyes. 

Oh. Oho. 

So there was someone Shion was pining for. No wonder the boy was so upset. 

"Shion—" Hakurei tsked, and grabbed the young man’s face with his other hand and forced his eyes forward. "Shion. Think. I know it’s not much to go on, but…you have a clue to find out what happened. And you have people who care about you. Together, we’ll sort through this puzzle."

Shion blinked. “A clue?”

"Roses. You said so yourself, didn’t you?"

"But I don’t know anything about roses…"

Hakurei narrowed his eyebrows. “Stop thinking like that. If you get depressed about this now, you won’t be able to move forward. One step at a time, alright? Now, do yourself a favor, and try using your head. Thick-skulled as you are, I’m sure there’s a bright idea in there somewhere.”

Shion frowned at him, but Hakurei saw him thinking. A moment passed, and Shion’s eyes lit up.

"I walked home…I walked home, so I had to know the way back. They must live in the dorms!"

"And there are no rosebushes in the dorms, so there has to be another connection." Hakurei grinned, and ruffled Shion’s hair. "See? When you stop being so stubborn, you can accomplish something." Unable to stop himself, Hakurei pulled Shion in for a hug. 

"Next time you do something like this, tell me. I managed to live this long for a reason, you know."

"There won’t be a next time", Shion retorted.

"Uh-huh." Hakurei snorted. "Now, why don’t I believe that?"

"Maybe because I remind you too much of yourself when you were my age?"

"Brat."

"Old man."

Hakurei hugged Shion tighter, ignoring the constraints of the awkward car seats and seat belts. A second later, and he felt Shion hug him back. The night wasn’t going to go back to feeling perfect any time soon—but that was alright.


	7. The Dangers of Romancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Degel has found the antics of his roommate to be completely insufferable. One drunken night does not equal a love affair, no matter how many terrible math-related sex puns you use to try and prove it as such.

Degel inclined his head, and pinched his eyes closed. There was a buzzing in his ears he could’t get rid of. Someone was talking about expanding student housing. Which, made sense, given his attendance at the dorm head gathering that happened every year, after the campus-wide Open House event. The dorm heads were meeting with the live-in faculty and the chief programmer of the event to discuss how the event had gone, what to do for next semester, and how to prepare for the up-coming weeks when prospective students would be visiting in earnest.

He really should have tried focusing more since he  _was_  one of the active dorm heads, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Though Degel had confidence in his intelligence, there was just too much going on for him to think about.

For one, his research paper; though it was due in about a month’s time, the assignment required that there be several credible sources from which to draw information. He had a few books picked out already, but parsing through them for the useful stuff was tricky. One such book, which held a collection of Ovid’s erotic poems, sat in his lap at that very moment, hidden from the eyes of the other dorm heads. Not that he was necessarily ashamed, he just—didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. The poems were fascinating, though often had their pace interrupted by random acts of violence and out-of-place discussions on food. 

Then there was the OTHER book. Given the nature of his research, and how lurid it sometimes got, Degel had thought it wise to try and keep his mind clinical in his research by perusing other material in the meantime that was even more lurid in comparison—and, graciously, had some connection to his research. This book, however, he kept hidden behind his binder full of class notes as he tried to not die of embarrassment. Unlike the former, this book wasn’t bound in a stoic cover with iconic images from Greece’s Helenistic art period; instead, the cover depicted a faux-realist image of two lovers embracing on what looked like the freakish lovechild between bedsheets and an octopus, their clothes artfully askew.

If anyone asked, “Temptations of a Sinful Rake” was for research  _only_. With a research topic like “The gendered evolution of erotic literature”, it was only natural that a romance novel fall under his perusal. (No matter that it was addictive). 

To make matters worse, the atmosphere of the room where the meeting was being held was noticeably charged with emotion. Even Degel, hardly an expert at social interaction, could tell that the room’s mood was hardly conducive to productivity—precisely because there were far too many moods in the room.

Albafica’s behavior was particularly of note. The steadfast loner, who usually made a habit of perfecting his technique of keeping his distance from everyone, was sitting in dramatically close proximity to Shion. Their chairs were practically touching. And he was  _smiling_.  _Sincerely._

Shion, normally one of the calm yet passionate participants in these meetings, seemed distracted and antsy. Degel suspected that it wasn’t lack of enthusiasm, but that he just really wanted to be somewhere else, doing something else. Or doing some _one,_ if Albafica’s absent hand was any indication. The only way those two could be more obvious was if Shion pinned Albafica to the table and started making out with him right then and there.

Then there was the complete opposite side of the emotional spectrum, with Manigold looking humorless and surly. Regulus, too, seemed robbed of his usual cheerfulness and energy. Sisyphus, one of the live-in tutors present, looked preoccupied. With  _what,_ Degel could only imagine; Sisyphus seemed to have difficulty looking anyone in the eye.

Then there were those who were doing their best to make the meeting progress. Bless their hearts, did they try. Dohko was saying something, about—welcoming committees? Did they even have the budget for that? Professor Hasgard just continued to sit back in his chair with his arms folded, listening intently to what was being said , and Degel could almost hear El Cid’s teeth grinding in irritation as he alternated between glaring at people and sighing. Really loudly. Right into Degel’s ears. 

Then there was Defteros and Asperos glaring bloody murder at each other as Asmita sat aside, his face a permanent visage of calculated disinterest. But that was hardly anything new.

Which brought Degel back to the other concern that was making it hard to focus: the matter of the remaining dorm head, and  _his_  projected mood. The main, most pressing matter. 

Kardia, his dorm head partner and friend of some years, was sitting across the room and staring at him. Intensely. In a manner that could only be interpreted as…lustful.

Had Kardia  _always_  stared at him like that during these meetings?

Degel hid his face behind his binder. Ye gods. 

This probably wouldn’t have been so unbearable if Degel hadn’t only recently become aware of Kardia’s intentions. If he had the slightest hint, the faintest inclination that Kardia harbored such affections, this wouldn’t be so overwhelming. But this was all happening far too fast.

After all, not long ago, hadn’t Kardia helped him ask out Seraphina? He had been flippant at first, but had generously suggested to Degel that taking her to a restaurant would make her feel trapped, and that saying ‘I’ll give you time to think it over’ before letting her speak was, quote-unquote, “a passive-aggressive dick move that would only make her feel obligated to give a whiplash reply without thinking about her own feelings”. Degel had taken Kardia’s advice to heart; he’d called Seraphina out to a an open cafe (not a restaurant), he’d asked, and when she asked for more time to think about it, he conceded. Hadn’t Kardia been sort of cheerful when he’d heard how it’d gone?

But then, Seraphina had left. Back home. To  _Siberia_. 

"Family matters", the email had said. Crisp. To the point. No mention of their conversation at the cafe, aside from "You’re a good friend".

He was rejected by a childhood friend with a four-and-a-half-word, emailed sentence.

It was a  _little_  hard to handle.  _Minorly_  distraught. Just a  _tiny_ bit too much.

Which is why he let Kardia drag him to a bar to get completely sloshed. The fact he couln’t remember  _which_  bar was a testament to how much alcohol he’d been able to get down before puking. And yet, Degel remembered  _enough_ that made him think he really should have been able to drink more.

_"You need to get out more, my friend." Kardia’s voice sounded muffled, but really loud at the same time. Why was that? Was it his ears, or was the the bathroom walls being weird? Degel shook his head to try and clear his ears. Then, his head hurt. Guess he banged it against something. Whoops. There was a tsking noise behind him, and he felt himself get pulled up by his hair. Then, he was abruptly turned about-face._

_"If I’d known your tolerance was this shitty, I wouldn’t have let you get yourself pissed halfway to unconsciousness."_

_"M’not pissed, I’m butter. Better. Feeling good, feeling f—" oh gods, why did everything seem so fuzzy? Had he lost his glasses? He slapped his face to check, and crammed the frames into his nose. "Oh. Wow, I am drunk. Why did you let me get this drunk, Kardia? I thought we were friends—"_

_"I was just saying—"_

_"You jerk, pissing people. Pissdrunking people. You…pissdrunker." Degel frowned. What the hell was a pissdrunker? What was he even saying? "I hate youuuu" Degel whined, and then leaned in to stare at Kardia’s face. Did he look hurt? "No. No, I didn’t mean it. Please don’t think I meant that, I’m sorry. I’m drunk off my ass. Kardia, please don’t leave me here in this room of white, and smell, and white and—"_

_"Degel—"_

_Degel pulled Kardia in by the collar of his dress shirt, and wrapped his arms around the other’s waist. “Now you can’t leave me like she did.”_

_Kardia was tense in his arms. Degel rested his head in the crook of Kardia’s neck. “You’re so warm, Kardia. It’s like you’re breathing fire into my soul everywhere I’m touching you, and—mm.” Degel felt really weird all of a sudden. Maybe because Kardia was just so warm, he felt warm now, too. All over, and oddly tingly. “Just wanna curl up next to you and sleep, and I’ll never be cold at night again—”_

_Kardia roughly shoved him away. Degel blinked a few times, trying to orient himself as the world spun. He noticed that he still felt warm, and he felt heat radiating from hands that held fast to his forearms._

_"I guess there’s something good about Seraphina leaving, then."_

_Degel blinked, trying to focus his vision. “What’re you talking about—”_

_There was warmth on his face. A hand? And why didn’t Kardia look so blurry anymore?_

_"It means I get to keep you to myself."_

_Pffftt. Oh god, Kardia was making jokes. Why was he making jokes when Degel was drunk like this? He snorted and collapsed, laughing. “Haha, that’s—Kardia, I think I’m going to die, that’s—”_

_And then, he couldn’t see anymore. Something was blocking out all the light._

_Whatever it was, he felt really hot all over. It was a bit uncomfortable, but there was a buzzing hum that seemed to echo in his ears, and he didn’t dislike it. Belatedly, Degel realized that he was having trouble breathing through his mouth—was there something moving in there? Whatever it was, it felt good, but what—_

_Then he could see again. Kardia’s face was close enough to tell that he was smiling like a cat who’d gotten the canary._

_"We’ll continue this when you’re sober." Kardia lightly pat his cheek, and grinned. "You’re still my friend, and it’s no fun if we’re both tipsy."_

_Huh? Continue what? “Kardia, what are you talking abou—”_

And then it was all black from there. Degel didn’t remember leaving the bar, or getting home, or how he’d ended up in his bed.He hadn’t even been sure that what he remembered wasn’t a dream until the next day when he woke up with a hangover that only god could cure, and Kardia, he—

Kardia was—

Gods.

Degel awoke to find Kardia, shirt open, with an icepack held hovering in his hands above Degel’s forehead wearing the biggest shit-eating grin he’d ever seen. And when Kardia cheerfully said, “Good morning, beautiful”, Degel realized that not only had he drunkely made out with his roommate the night before, but that he’d liked it.

There was no confession. No stilted ‘please go out with me’. No cafes, no special circumstances. Kardia’s switch just flipped, and since that night he had been relentless in letting Degel know exactly what kind of “continuation” he had in mind.

Subtlety, thy name is not Kardia. 

Degel happened a glance over the top of his binder, and nearly died on the spot. Kardia had smacked his lips at him. Ye gods. Who did that kind of thing in public?? Degel frowned, and stuck out his tongue at him. Immature, yes. And entirely ineffective. Kardia simply raised his eyebrows at him, grinned, and stuck his tongue out back at him.

And then began to lick his lips. 

Slowly.

_Aaaggghghhhhhhh._

Degel hid back behind his binder again, and glared at the materials he’d gathered around him. He _would_ be surrounded by nothing but erotic literature when trying to distract himself from erotic advances. But, there was nothing else to do aside from trying to pay attention to a meeting that was going nowhere. With a huff, he flipped open to a page in Ovid’s collection:

> _Thy breast is not made of adamant or steel; nor dost thou carry simplicity to excess. Thou too, methinks hath felt boy Cupid’s darts_

Degel frowned at the page. “You know nothing, Ovid”, he mouthed silently, and replaced the bookmark as covertly as possible. Not daunted, he flipped to the most recent page in “Temptations of a Sinful Rake”. He still hadn’t gotten to any sex scenes, so he figured he was safe—

> _"You have bewitched me, Dahlia, and have so set my heart ablaze I cannot bring myself to deceive you further. The name upon my certificate, Wallace Greensely, is in fact a fabrication of necessity—but my true identity, my calling since birth, is the second earl of the von Kardia estate_

It took all of his restraint not the throw the book across the room. The hell?? How did Kardia’s name get in this book?? Why were all of his books conspiring against him?! Desperate, he flipped through his binder, which had his notes from Advanced Calculus. Nothing sexy about calculus notes, right? He was sure to escape the rapidly multiplying images of Kardia and himself in compromising positions within the clinical, calculated theorems and postulates of calculus—

> _I need a little help with my calculus, can you integrate my natural log?_

Degel stared in shock at the handwriting that was definitely not his. More importantly, he stared at the multiple instances of handwriting that was not his, in his notebook, on his calculus notes.

> _I’ll take you to your limit if you show me your end behavior_

Kardia had gotten to his calculus notes. This was—no. No, this couldn’t be. Kardia was better than this, right? He wouldn’t  _deface_  his calculus notes with unoriginal math pick-up lines. This wasn’t happening. He flipped to the next page, nearly tearing it from the binder clipping—

> _Since distance equals velocity times time, let’s let velocity and time approach infinity, because I want to go all the way with you._

Gods, how many more of these were there?

> _I hope you know set theory because i want to intersect and union you_

Nope—

> _Hey, baby want to Squeeze my Theorem while I poly your nomial?_

Nope, nope, nope—

> _My love for you is like a concave up function because it is always increasing._

Degel’s ears felt flush. That one was actually kind of sweet, but—dammit, he needed these notes. He had an open-note test this week—

> _You have a nice asymptote._

Degel felt his eye twitch in its socket. His face was burning. Kardia was dead. So, so dead. That is, if Degel could keep himself from dying of—of whatever the rising irritation inside of him was called. When the hell was this meeting going to be over so he could kill his roommate in peace?! Degel began counting down from ten, praying for something—ANYTHING—to happen, to stop him from making an idiot out of himself—

The door to the conference room burst open, and a young man with black hair tied up in a tail fell down to his knees and grabbed Dohko by the legs. “DOHKO, PLEASE, YOU HAVE TO STOP THEM, THEY’VE GONE COMPLETELY INSANE!!”

Everyone in the room—every antsy, moody, desperate, murderous and horny person in the room—stopped what they were doing, and stared in silence

Praise the gods.

"Teneo, wha—this is a dorm head meeting, you can’t just come in here", Dohko protested, and—hilariously—did his best to stand still and  _not_ violently shake off this ‘Teneo’  guy. It would have been fruitless, anyways—Degel could tell the kid was NOT letting go. “Besides, I thought I told you not to involve me in their lover’s quarrel—”

Degel’s eyebrows shot up. Lover’s quarrel? Really? It had to be a lover’s quarrel? He just wasn’t going to get any peace, was he—

"No, you don’t understand. This isn’t just about peaceful dorm living anymore, he’s your  _brother_ and they’re being utterly ridiculous—”

"Hey, hey, Dohko". Kardia drawled, and uughh was he purring? Degel couldn’t be imagining that, right? "What’s this about that little brother of yours acting out? You really should take more responsibility with your siblings—"

Dohko huffed. “Shut up, Kardia, he’s talking about  _your_ little brother, too.”

Kardia instantly stiffened. Gone was the seductive countenance, replaced by a look of pure murder. Today was a good day, after all. “ _What._ ”

"That’s it—" the screeching noise of a char skidding against the floor broke through the room, and everyone turned to see Regulus standing up. "This is ridiculous. Nothing is getting done. Let’s take a break while you two sort this out, huh? I’m tired." Regulus was clearly  _trying_ to smile, but it wasn’t working. 

"Guys—" Dohko pleaded, but was cut off by Professor Hasgard standing up.

"I think that’s a great idea. Let’s all clear our heads for fifteen minutes, shall we? You’re dorm heads first; the problems of your fellow students are always important.   How does fifteen minutes sound for everyone?"

There was a chorus of agreement around the room. Without any further argument, the group began to split up, everyone but the involved parties staying behind. A sweeping sensation of relief overcame Degel. Fifteen minutes was plenty of time to go back to his room, deposit his books, and fish out something more reasonable—like a thesaurus, or a geography book—

"Hey."

Degel stopped in his tracks. 

"Kardia. Who said you could go through my calculus notes and write horntoad crap all over them?"

"Oho! So you saw those!" Degel rolled his eyes, and turned around. Kardia was grinning again, an apple in hand, and shrugged. "It seemed safer than just sticking them in there with post-it notes. And I left your linguistics notes alone!"

Degel narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be back there? With Dohko? They’re talking about your brother—”

"If I got involved with every time Yato had a problem, he’d never grow up." Kardia shrugged again, and took a bite out of his apple. "Besides, I have other things to worry about."

"Like?" 

"Like", Kardia began, and took a step forward. "How to get my soulmate to not ignore me"

Degel almost choked. _”S—soulmate?_ " 

Kardia nodded. “When I first met him, I kind of thought he was an asshole. But…” he rubbed the apple against his jacket, and scratched at the back of his neck. “One day I realized that he was the greatest person I knew, and that being apart from him was boring and droll, and I hate the thought of letting him go.”

"K—Kardia—"

"Look, I’m sorry about what happened at the bar. I know that kissing you was a shitty thing to do in the circumstances, and the fact that we were both drunk doesn’t excuse that I was a jerk. I want to kiss you again, without alcohol hanging over our heads. You…" Kardia’s face was turning red. "I like when you get angry, how you put up with my bullshit and argue with me. I like how you’re a a softy, but steadfast. I—I like your cold hands, and whenever I’m close to you, it’s like—it’s as if you set my soul on fire to the brink of my existence, and then bring me back to life with a cool breeze. Degel…"

This couldn’t be real, Degel thought. This was unbelievable. He was certain that the two of them wore matching shades of “burning faces”. 

"Can we—can I start over? I just—" they were standing a few feet apart now. "I just…argh, I can’t say romantic bullshit like this, I want you and I think you want me too, and I can’t stop thinking about kissing you and how you were kissing me back, and—"

Degel’s skin prickled. “ _What_ ”. 

"Well, you were. I kissed you on the lips thinking that was going to be it, but then you grabbed me by my jacket and shoved your tongue down my throat. It took everything I had to pull away because you just  _wouldn’t let go_ , I thought I was going to  _die—”_

 _  
_Degel’s mouth gaped open. “I don’t believe you. You’re pushing the drunk kissing incident on me??”

"What? No!" Kardia balked, and stepped back. "I’m just saying that you—no, I’m not—dammit! If I hadn’t been drunk and if I hadn’t kissed you, I wouldn’t have had so much fucking trouble pulling away, and I  _definitely_ wouldn’t have been overwhelmed by a drunk you, because I know for a  _fact_  that I’m ten times better at kissing than you—”

The buzzing in his ears grew. 

"Oh  _really_ ”, Degel ground out. “Ten times better, you say. On what basis do you make that claim? From one drunk kiss where I pinned you to the ground?”

Kardia narrowed his eyebrows. “Wha—no, of course not, I mean—I’ve kissed other people, and—”

Without another word, Degel grabbed Kardia by his shirt collar, and started dragging him off.

"Wha—Degel, what are you—"

Bathroom, bathroom—where was a bathroom in this building? Or a secluded corner?   Janitor’s closet?? He kept panning his vision back and forth, and finally found the door to the emergency staircase. In a flash, he threw the door open, and dragged Kardia in behind him before slamming the door.

"Degel! Are you nu—" Degel pushed his glasses up out of his face. Gently, Degel placed two fingers under Kardia’s chin and tilted it up, and pressed their lips together.

Then, he shoved Kardia up against the wall, and nipped at Kardia’s upper lip, and smiled against the other’s mouth as Kardia’s breath hitched.

Ten times better,  _hah._

He nipped again, and pushed his tongue forward after Kardia’s lips were coaxed apart. Right as he found the other’s, he slid one leg between Kardia’s thighs and pressed. Hard. He felt Kardia jolt in response. With one final nip, Degel held the other’s lower lip between his teeth as he slowly backed away, and hovered centimeters from Kardia’s burning body before releasing it with a final pop.

Kardia’s face was about as red as the apple he’d been eating earlier, wide-eyed, and breathing hard. 

"I give you a three. Between a scale of one to ten. Now, where do you think I fall?"

Kardia’s mouth dropped open, completely aghast. “Degel, you casanova piece of shit. Oh gods, I hate you so much right now. You just—you just kissed me, and you expect me to give you a goddamn grade on it??”

Degel smirked, and pulled completely away. “Consider it payback for the terrible pick-up lines”.

"That makes no fucking sense, you—hey!" Kardia reached out, but fell back against the wall, winded. "Where are you going—you can’t just leave me here like this! Degel!! Take responsibility for this boner you gave me, goddamnit—"

Degel turned, and pulled his glasses back down over his face. “You’ve got about ten minutes before the meeting starts back up again, right? I’m sure you can do something with yourself in that time, no problem. Mister, ‘I’m ten times better than kissing at you, mwehehe’. You don’t need  _my_ help.”

"Degel get back here, you—"

"La la la, can’t hear you, too busy being an inexperienced kisser who apparently can’t compare to you, la la la!~" Curious, how mischievous he felt today. Gosh, this  day was turning out to be wonderful! He grinned, and peeked through the door at Kardia as he slowly closed it.

"Deeeeegeeeell, you—this means war, do you hear me?? WAR. No stops pulled. I’ll fight you with everything I fucking have, you you understand what that means???"

He adjusted his glasses, and grinned. “Come back in a hundred years. That’s how much time you’ll need to become a better kisser than me.” With a wink, Degel slammed the door to Kardia’s outraged, frustrated noises, and walked away whistling.

There were so many things Degel had to think about recently. But at least now, one of those problems had become a game. He smiled wide, and with a spring in his step began estimating how long Kardia would take to come back to the meeting hall.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the excerpt from Ovid’s poems is from Elegy XI: He Asks Nape to Deliver a Love-Letter to Her Mistress. “Temptations of a sinful rake”, while it may actually be a title that exists somewhere, is a book invented for this story.


End file.
